Running Away
by riboflavinB2
Summary: <html><head></head>Idril is running from her past and frightened of her future. She lives for the present. This all changes in a blink of an eye with a bird, a cave, and stone. T to be extremely safe. MurtaghxOC *Not another Galbatorix's daughter story I promise*</html>
1. Prologue

Running Away

Prologue

Getting past the guards was easy. Most of them were either sleeping or not paying attention to a ten-year-old girl wearing a black cloak that covered her face. She half expected trouble at the gate, but no, she made it past without as much as a second glance her way.

She had been planning to run away for a while. Ever since she looked into her mother's cold, lifeless eyes she knew she couldn't stand living with the monster that killed her. Just thinking about her father made her clench her teeth and curl her fingers into a fist. She imagined her father's laugh as he saw his daughter hanging over his wife's body. "Remember something, Idril. Those you love will always leave you. Don't think for a second they won't. It's better that you make sure they _can't _leave." She remembered his boots making a clicking noise as he turned away and walked off into the darkness, but not before uttering, "But let's face it. You're _my_ daughter, who could _ever _love you?"

His voice echoed in her thoughts. She breathed in deeply, pulled the cloak closer to her face, and started running. When she was out of breath, she just ran harder. _I will get away._


	2. Chapter 1: The Cave

**Hey this is my first fanfic so critique away! **

**Disclaimer: Don't own anything Eragon related. **

Chapter One

The Cave

She was on the run again. Idril thought she never stopped running. There was always something to run from. Today, it was the baker from Kuasta. Idril had stolen just one or two loaves (really not that much) and he had to follow her for over a mile? Granted, he was on a horse, so he didn't have to do much work, but come on. The bread wasn't worth much; couldn't he just let it go?

Idril was sick of running. She'd done it her whole life and was pretty sure she'd be running until she wore her legs down to the bone. She made it into the mountainous forest and sped up. If there were any place to lose the fat guy on the horse behind her, it was here. She could faintly hear the sound of hooves hitting the forest floor. Idril continued to run. There was no way she would take any chance of being caught. The only thing worse than running was being locked up in jail. And in her short seventeen years as a human being, that had happened far too often. Fortunately, she was also quite the escape artist.

It was when a bird flew out of the tree suddenly did Idril make her fatal mistake. She looked back to see what the noise was, and _wham! _She ran right into a tree and plummeted backwards. Her mess of red hair slipped out of her hair tie and fell everywhere. She didn't realize there was a rock underneath her when she was running…until she landed on it. The point of the rock hit into her spinal chord, which sent spasms through her body. Idril grunted and let out a whole slew of curses in the ancient language, one of the only things her father had bothered to teach her many years ago. The girl was immobilized and dizzy for a few seconds when she got over the initial shock of falling. It was hard for her to breathe. She could do nothing but lie there and listen to the sound of hooves getting closer and closer.

Idril did her best to get up, but the stabbing pain of the rock wasn't subsiding. But what was pain to her? She'd dealt with enough in her short life. She could deal with a little more. Idril knew she had to get to some sort of shelter where she could hide from the baker. She looked to her left. Nothing but trees. Then she glanced to her right where she saw a small opening in the mountain wall. A cave. _Perfect. _Idril sat up, wincing in pain, and crawled to the cave ten feet away. The two seconds it took to walk that far were nothing compared to the long and arduous five minutes to crawl there. With every passing minute, the horse was louder and louder. Idril wondered if she'd even make it to the cave. Eventually when she neared the black opening, Idril gained enough feeling to limp the rest of the way.

Once safe inside the cave, Idril inspected her satchel where she kept all of her belongings. Well, most of the time they weren't _her _belongings; she had stolen them. But, hey, what's a parentless girl to do? There, at the bottom the brown leather bag, she found what she had been looking for. A necklace. Her mother's necklace. Her father had ripped it from her mother's neck when she died and dropped it on Idril. It was the only thing she had left of her previous life. The only thing that would identify her if she was ever caught by the royal guards. She knew she should probably throw it in a river somewhere if she truly wanted to be free. But she just couldn't do it.

After a couple more minutes she heard the horse very close to the cave she was hiding out in. Idril stiffened and waited as the horse ran right past her. The seventeen-year-old let out a sigh of relief. She really didn't want to spend the next few days in a cold, dark jail cell.

After Idril sighed, she noticed an unpleasant smell. It was rusty and metallic. _Blood. _Maybe, she had hit something else as she fell. It took her a moment to realize she hadn't smelled the blood, she'd tasted it. You'd think someone would have noticed blood dripping down their face, but apparently, Idril hadn't. The pain from the rock must have numbed her to all other injuries. She lifted a tan hand to her forehead. The gash was pretty deep. _I must have done this when I ran into the tree._ She knew she should probably find some water to clean out the wound.

The thought of emerging from her safe little cave in her state frightened her, so Idril thought she just might have to improvise. She _could _stick one of the loaves of bread on the wound to act like a sponge, but then again, that wouldn't do much. Perhaps she would just have to live with it.

Idril sighed and closed her eyes, wondering how she had ever gotten to such a place. Why didn't she just stay with the nice family that offered her a warm bed and food six years ago? The man, his son, and his uncle seemed nice enough. She could have lived with them on their nice farm with their nice goats' milk and their nice running water. _Running water? _Idril listened to the cave. Yes, there was definitely a source of running water in the dark expanse, and she planned on finding out where it was.

To go walking into black abyss of the cave, Idril needed a torch, which meant she needed a fire. The runaway went outside to collect wood and reentered the cave after she finished. The blood had now dried to her forehead, making her skin feel clenched and sticky. She needed to wash her face off in that water before an infection spread.

Taking two rocks, she pounded them together causing sparks to fly in her mini-campfire. Eventually, one of the sparks caught hold of the tinder and a small fire erupted. Idril lightly blew on the flame as it grew and enveloped the surrounding sticks. She grabbed a larger stick and wrapped a bit of the cloth from her shirt around it. Idril took the stick and plunged it into the fire. The flames jumped to it instantly. She had made her torch.

With the torch in hand, Idril walked cautiously into the blackness. She noticed the walls of the cave getting narrower and wetter with every passing step. Soon, she could only shimmy sideways along the damp stone to continue. The sound of the running water also grew. It wasn't just a small stream like she had assumed. No, it was much bigger. It was a subterranean waterfall.

With a few more steps, the narrow passageway of the cave opened up to an underground waterfall. Though she couldn't see more than a couple feet in front of her because of the small torch, she knew this waterfall was big and fed into a large pool of water.

Idril was amazed at the sound of the powerful, raging waters that slammed into the lake's surface. She'd always been attracted to power, a trait undoubtedly passed on from her father. She forced herself to walk towards the water knowing the gash on her head wouldn't clean itself.

As she stopped at the edge of the water, Idril knelt and, with her right hand on the torch, used the other as a cup. She then repeatedly threw the water on her face and scrubbed. When the wound and the rest of her face were clean, Idril took the moment to gaze at her reflection, something she hadn't been able to do for a while due to the lack of mirrors as a thief.

Her long red hair was tangled and messy, and hung from her face limply. She really would have to do something about that. Her heart-shaped face, once ghostly pale but now tan from the years on the run, had one large cut above the left eyebrow. Her eyes were blue like her mother's and her lips were thin and pink like her father's. Her nose was the perfect size for her face, not too big or too small, and her cheekbones high almost giving off an aura of importance. She looked long and hard at the scar on her lip, the one her father had given her during sword "practice" one day. It extended from the top of the right side of her cheek and angled downwards to a little past the bottom lip. Idril thought of the day her father had given her that.

"_Remember your footwork, Idril, the footwork!" Idril used what energy she had left from the exhausting battle to lunge at her father. Her heavy iron sword clanged against his as he carefully blocked the attack. Idril grunted and breathed heavily. She was only eight-years-old and her father expected her to as skilled as he was. _

_The battle waged on and Idril grew more exhausted after every lunge and step. Finally, Idril made her deadly error as she interrupted the dance that was sword fighting. She missed a step. Her father easily knocked her down and ran the blade of his sword over Idril's face. She yelped._

"_I thought I said footwork. Did you not understand?" Idril just stared at him, hurt and dejected. "You would have been killed on the battlefield. Honestly, I haven't a clue why you are of any worth to me."_

_With this, Idril's father turned away to leave. Idril immediately sprang up and tried to slash his back. He side-stepped and rammed his sword into her body, causing her to fall once again. "I don't know why you couldn't have been a son." He threw his sword down with a loud ringing noise and exited the room. Idril lied down and cried. Not because of the wound, but because she knew her father hated her. Even worse than being his daughter was _wanting_ to be his daughter. _

Idril hadn't realized she had grabbed a nearby rock and began squeezing it until the memories faded away. Suddenly enraged, she threw the rock into the lake and the once calm black surface of the water rippled, shattering Idril's reflection. It took several deep breaths before Idril regained her composure. By then, the anger had turned into a deep sadness.

Her mother…her poor mother. Idril wished she had never been born, that she had never been born _to him. _Idril considered sadness a weakness, so as a tear dropped from her clear blue eyes she stood up. She had to go back to the entrance of the cave immediately. She had to do something to keep herself busy.

Idril began to make her way back to the little crevice she used to enter the waterfall. However, her torch caught white writing on the wall a little to the left of the gap. She stopped immediately. Out of the corner of her eye she could see this writing was in the ancient language…which undoubtedly made it important.

Idril's curiosity got the better of her and she carefully inched closer to the writing. She held her torch as close as possible to the words.

"_An ancient secret lost in time_

_For the right soul to unwind_

_A treasure only one can hold_

_More precious than all the gold_

_ The angry and the friendless hated_

_ Shall be the heart that is fated"_


	3. Chapter 2: The Treasure

**Hey everyone! I just wanted to let you know this fanfic is movie-based (though it does take place after the movie). I just felt the movie left things so much more open-ended so I could work with them easier. So sorry that the movie messed the book's plot up but I promise this fanfic won't be awful. **

**Idril should meet up with the characters from Eragon extremely soon (like next chapter!), I promise.**

Chapter Two

The Treasure

Idril was contemplating the short poem she had read on the wall. _A treasure? More precious than gold?_ Whatever it was, it could be her one shot to get away from all the thieving and a painful past. Idril was determined to find that treasure, sell it, and take the money to buy herself a small farm. There was just one problem: where was it?

Idril looked all over the cave. She eventually even made her way back to where she set up the fire earlier. It was no where to be found. Granted, she had been looking for a treasure chest or some other fantastic article, so it wasn't all that likely she'd find it in the first place.

She thought back to the poem. "_For the right soul to unwind." _Maybe the treasure just wasn't meant for her. Idril quickly gave up on finding this 'richer than gold' item. She realized her fantasy was ridiculous anyways. The seventeen-year-old knew she couldn't 'settle down' on a farm. She couldn't even spend more than one night in a single location. With her father still out there, she'd never rest.

The thought of this exhausted her. She sat down near her fire, which was just embers now, and sighed. Her lack of zeal for things had always gotten her in trouble. She distinctly remembered her father slapping her in the face a couple of times for such a vice. Why _should _she bother to look for this treasure? It wasn't like she'd ever find it. She was a failure, just as her father so often told her.

Idril suddenly felt tired. Perhaps it was all the running and the falling and the sighing. She glanced outside. It was dark and the only source of light was the moon and the dying embers. She looked behind her at the wall of the cave. There was a small boulder lying against the wall. The perfect pillow for the imperfect thief.

Idril inched her way along the dirt floor to the rock. Immediately as she leaned her arm on the stone, it gave way. For such a large rock it moved so easily. So much for her pillow. Idril wasn't paying attention to gravelly floor where the boulder had been previously. She just attempted to lay her head down to the ground.

She couldn't. There was something there. Some sort of smooth-surfaced, cold, and rounded object. The drowsiness from all the running was just too much to bear. Idril pushed the object aside, yawned, and fell asleep.

Idril awoke just after sunrise. She yawned and stretched her arms over her hand. As she brought her arms back down to her side, her fingers brushed against a chilled surface. Idril jolted awake and was teaming with curiosity. She immediately looked down at the object that she had pushed away last night.

It was oval and shiny. The surface seemed to be marble-colored, white with gray streaks every here and there. At first, Idril believed it to be just another strange rock (there were apparently so many in this forest!), but as she looked closer she realized what this was. A dragon egg.

Memories flooded back to her.

_Idril's father led her down a long corridor. Every so often the two would pass a door, which was always guarded by some type of personnel, and continued. Idril thought this hall would never end. A nine-year-old's mind can only be attentive to one thing for a short period of time. She was undoubtedly bored. She started playing a game she liked to call 'Don't Step on the Cracks,' where she did her best to avoid the cracks in between the stones on the floor. As a result, Idril slowed down considerably to steer clear of the cracks._

"_Idril, hurry up!" Her father sounded angry as his eyes stared deep into her. She suddenly didn't have the same will to play 'Don't Step on the Cracks' anymore. Idril ran to catch up with her father. When she did, she held her hand out and tried to grasp her father's hand. He noticed and quickly stepped away. Idril looked down and pouted. _

_Before long, Idril and her father had arrived at their destination. The end of the corridor. Here, there was a large door with ancient language written above it. Two guards stood at either side of the wooden door, each with a spear in their hands. Idril's father nodded to them and turned his attention back to the door. The door suddenly opened. In walked Idril and her father._

_There were three things inside this room. A pedestal, a purple and gold pillow, and an oval-shaped object. The object was resting on the pillow and the pillow was resting on the pedestal. This day was getting stranger for Idril by the minute. _

_Her father directed Idril to the pedestal. "Do you know what this is, Idril?" Idril looked at the object and saw nothing special. Just a red stone. _

"_A rock, Father?" _

"_It's not just a rock, Idril. It's a dragon egg." Idril knew exactly what that was. Her father had always made sure to tell her bedtime stories about dragons and their Riders. "Go ahead, Idril, pick it up." There was something in her father's tone she had never heard before. Anticipation. Idril inched toward the egg and reached a hand out to touch it._

_The surface was cold. Idril picked up the egg and held it close to her face. While she was inspecting it, her father stood behind her, looking very angry. "I thought for sure you would be the one." He grunted, walked towards his little daughter, and took the egg away from her. Idril was angry, but she didn't say anything for fear of what her father would do to her. He carefully placed the egg back upon the pillow and turned to face Idril. "Let's go. This was a waste of time. You're a waste of time." _

It was as if someone had stabbed her in the heart. _Waste of time! Waste of time? I'll show you who is a waste of time! _She wanted revenge and she wanted it now. Of all the terrible things her father had said to her, that was by far the worst. She never really was quite the same afterwards. She distanced herself away from her father and mother. She built a wall around her heart. She wouldn't let anything trouble her. She was the ghost of a person.

It was two days after the egg incident that Idril had seen her mother lying on the floor, eyes wide in surprise and dull. Idril hadn't really ever seen a dead person, but as soon as she saw her mother something in her brain just clicked. Her mother was dead. Idril had died inside. She didn't even cry at her beloved mother's death. She did nothing but build up hatred for her father, the killer.

This egg could change her past. She could start over. If the egg wasn't meant for her (she was almost positively sure it wasn't), she could sell it or trade it for something. And if all else failed, she'd take it to the elves in Ellesméra, who would offer her a large sum of gold and make sure the egg wouldn't fall into the hands of Galbatorix.

Idril had determined to take the dragon egg with her when she left the confines of the cave. She carefully grabbed the egg and placed it in her satchel. Idril then stood up, made sure she hadn't left anything in the cave, and walked into the daylight. The sun was so bright that Idril had to raise a hand over her eyebrow to deflect it. The sky was a beautiful, clear blue and the clouds were fluffy and small. Today would turn out to be a wonderful day. No rain, no hail, no thunder. This all meant Idril could enjoy a nice walk through the forest.

As the sun was high in the sky, Idril sat under the shade of the tree. It was hot and she was tired. She nibbled on a chunk of bread while she pulled the oval egg out of her brown leather satchel.

The dragon egg really was beautiful. She could tell the dragon inside would be too. Idril found herself fantasizing about the creature. She sat there for almost an hour dreaming about what it would be like to be a Dragon Rider, to soar above the clouds, to have such power. After these fantasies, Idril knew she loved the egg. She wouldn't let it go for anything. Not treasure, or riches. It was _hers. _Truly _hers. _

As Idril suddenly realized she'd spent far too long staring at an egg, she placed the dragon on the pine-needled floor. She reached in her bag to put the rest of her bread away. When she had finished, she turned to the egg to do the same.

Idril gasped. She'd never thought this could happen to her. She never imagined something so great could happen to _her, _the daughter of an evil man. The egg was shaking. The dragon was trying to stick its little head out in the world. This could only mean one thing. Idril was a Dragon Rider. And this was her dragon.

Idril helped the baby dragon hatch. She pulled away bits and pieces from the egg until the dragon could move around freely. The dragon's scales were mainly white, but every so often the color would switch to gold in one scale. Its eyes were big, gold, and filled with curiosity. There was a tuft of what seemed like white hair atop its head. The little guy couldn't have been bigger than Idril's two hands. It was maybe the cutest, most beautiful thing she'd ever seen in her life.

Idril was eager to pet the dragon. She leaned a hand towards it and the dragon complied. Her hand just barely tapped the dragon's head when a blinding light shot out in all directions. Pain shot up through Idril's hand. She winced.

Soon both the light and the pain had faded. However, a strange symbol had appeared on Idril's right hand. It was a dragon in a swirled shape burned into her skin. Idril suddenly remembered her father speaking to her about this burn mark. _Didn't he say something about all the other Dragon Riders would know if you touched your dragon for the first time? _If that was the case, Idril had to move, and she had to move quickly.

The young Dragon Rider picked up the egg shells (she didn't want her presence to be known) and whispered to her dragon, "Come on, little one. We have to hurry." She picked up her dragon and lightly placed him in her satchel. She quickly looked down and smiled at it before standing up and taking off.

A man sitting in a rather large chair called to his servant. "Durza…would you like to explain to me HOW THIS HAPPENED!" Durza shrank away from his master.

"The egg…it was ancient. Most didn't even believe it existed. It was supposed to be hidden so well that only the one who concealed it could find it."

"And yet, Durza, here we are. You have failed me yet again. First, you let the farm boy have an egg, then the very same boy killed you and I had to bring you back, and thirdly, _this_ egg has been found _too_! I am beginning to doubt your competence." Durza kept his head hanging lowly.

"Forgive me, Master. I have not properly healed from the _farm boy's _little act of courage." Durza spit the words 'farm boy' out with such contempt that it sounded almost like a serpent hissing. The man in the chair was silent. He let out a sigh.

"I shall give you one task. If you should fail this as well, I'll kill you myself. You wouldn't be brought back. You are to find this Rider and bring him to me. Understand?" Durza nodded and turned on his heel. "Oh, and Durza?" The shade turned to face his king. "Make another excuse and I'll run my sword straight through your heart." Durza nodded again, this time a bit more frightened. He turned away and exited the room.

An eighteen-year-old woke in a slightly large room located in the Varden. He hadn't realized he'd fallen asleep until the pain in his hand made him arouse. He sat up and stared down at his hand. Slowly, he began to understand what was happening as the sleep lifted off of him. His dragon, Saphira, was lying in the corner next to black-haired young man. The man was two years older than his friend who had just awoken, and was sharpening a knife. "Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. That wound really must have hand an effect on you to be sleeping at noon."

Eragon rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Murtagh, there's a new Dragon Rider. We have to go find him before Galbatorix does." Eragon instantly stood but Murtagh just sat, staring at his younger friend.

"We have plenty of time, Eragon. Durza is dead and the Urgals with him. What trouble could possibly find the Rider before us?"

"Trust me, Murtagh; Riders have a way of finding trouble in the strangest of places."


	4. Chapter 3: Unlikely Circumstances

**A/N: Hey there! Thanks to all my reviewers! I really appreciate it. I just wanted to say this chapter probably isn't my best, but I did figure out how to put lines in the text to split POVs. YAY! Alright. Thanks for all your support. Please review if you have time. **

**Disclaimer: Though I truly wish I did, I do not own **_**Eragon. **_

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><p>Chapter Three<p>

Unlikely Circumstances

Idril found herself running once again. Something was different about today though. Her future wasn't as unsure, her past not so unbearable. She believed the cause of this to be sitting in her satchel. She felt the little dragon squirming around in the leather bag as she ran. _Poor thing, it's probably starving. I'll have to stop soon anyway, I'm getting tired. _

A few moments later, Idril slowed to a jog. She found it better to gradually decrease her speed instead of immediately stopping. She didn't get muscle spasms that way. When she had fully slowed to a walk, she peeked inside of her satchel.

The dragon was asleep on top of the bread, almost like it was a pillow. This made Idril giggle, a sensation she hadn't really ever experienced in her dreary life. With her laugh, the dragon lifted its head up to Idril. His golden eyes stared at her. They seemed so wise, so knowing…so human. A brick had been picked away from the wall around her heart. She accepted this baby dragon as her friend, her confidant, her companion. Who cares if he couldn't talk or fly yet. It was her best friend. It was her _only _friend.

Idril halted and lifted the dragon out of her satchel. What do dragon babies eat? She thought back to her father's bedtime stories. The only thing she could remember was that her father had said something about mice. Idril knew if she tried to catch mice she'd only end up making a fool of herself, so she just knelt and put the dragon on the soft ground. The dragon stared at her curiously. "Okay, little one, I don't think I can catch you any mice. Is there anything else you eat that I can help with? Do you eat bread?" The dragon just stared.

Nearby, a rustle in leaves captured both Idril and her dragon's attention. The dragon jolted toward it half running, half flying. She thought perhaps that her dragon would leave her as it sped away into a bush. She thought she might cry out for the little one to return. However, only moments later, the white dragon came waltzing back to her with a large squirrel in its mouth. It looked so proud as it carried his prey. Idril laughed. "Quite impressive, little one, maybe if I had your skills I wouldn't have to steal my food." If she could read a dragon's feelings, she'd have to say the hatchling looked almost…disappointed. Its expression made her never want to steal again.

The dragon sauntered over to where Idril was resting and placed the dragon at her feet, like it was offering it to her. The dragon then walked over to Idril's arm and nudged it lovingly. "You want me to eat it? No, little one, it's yours. How do you ever expect to grow without eating some hearty squirrel?" She made herself laugh, the dragon however, was not amused. It nudged her again. "I'm not hungry." While this did not seem to altogether satisfy the dragon, it turned back to the squirrel and began digging its teeth into the flesh. Idril turned away finding the sight far too unappetizing.

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><p>Idril tried to decipher where she was at the moment. Her best guess was somewhere near the Leona Lake, for she had been traveling east ever since she entered The Spine. She didn't know where she would go next. Usually she'd just point in a random direction and run until she hit civilization. But today was different. She had to avoid civilization as much as possible. No soldiers who might, on an off chance, spot her.<p>

Hours after her dragon's 'delicious' meal (or so it seemed from the little guy licking its lips arduously), Idril remained in the very same location. She knew it wasn't wise, but she just enjoyed spending time with her little white creature. The creature was now curled up on Idril's lap, soaking up the sun in its scales. She knew she should get up, but suddenly it seemed as if she couldn't. As she watched her dragon sleep, she began to feel sleepy. She could barely open her eyes. Soon, she drifted off into a deep slumber… _I suppose a short afternoon nap would do me some good. _

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><p>A black shadow passed over her, blocking the sun from Idril's eyes. She immediately woke up and scanned the sky. She hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. She hoped it wasn't <em>his <em>flying creature. Or even Galbatorix's dragon, but he hardly ever showed his ugly face outside of the palace walls.

Idril quickly stuck her dragon (it was still sleeping) into her satchel. She prepared to take off, but a strange sound reached her ears. _Men…men fighting. Neither of the two my father. Maybe I'll just take a peek_ _at them. They did have some sort of flying animal… _Curiosity won Idril over. She slowly made her way to the sound of the men's voices, careful not to step on anything that would crunch, like a leaf or twig. The voices became clearer; she could now hear what they were saying.

"Why couldn't you just stop badgering me? I told you we'd rest soon enough. You're the one who wanted to find this person so quickly. Who cares if you're a little thirsty?"

"Saphira needs to drink and rest. She's been flying with your body and mine all day. We can spare a few moments. 'The person' won't move very fast. Besides, Galbatorix wouldn't dare ride his dragon out of palace walls. We have a head start looking for him." Idril wanted to know who they were looking for. She knew that rarely anyone ever hung around the Leona Lake. That's why it was one of her favorite places to hide out.

"How do you even know where he is? Can Saphira smell…?" _Snap. _In her attempts to hear the altercation better, Idril inched forward until she accidentally stepped on a twig. The boys immediately stopped and turned towards the noise. Idril tried to hide behind a tree trunk, but it was too late. They had already seen her.

"Hello…who is that?" Idril carefully stepped out from behind the tree and the shadows into the clearing the two were standing in. She saw the two men visibly for the first time. The first was dark-haired, dark-eyed pale man wearing a black cloak over black pants and a black shirt. He had scars along his face and looked melancholic, or maybe just misunderstood.

The second man was altogether different. He was blond-haired and blue eyed with a considerably lighter demeanor than his friend. He wore a light shirt covered by a tan leather vest. He looked extremely surprised to see a girl out in the forest alone. Idril squinted. She knew him…

"Eragon?" The man she knew was Eragon seemed puzzled. She didn't blame him; she hadn't seen him herself for six years. "I know, I know. I've changed a lot from when I was eleven and paler than your friend over here. My hair was redder too? You offered me to stay with you on your farm?" She phrased this as a question hoping he would remember her. Suddenly, his face relaxed as a wave of realization passed over him.

"Idril." Eragon walked over to her and gave her a warm hug. Though she didn't really feel comfortable hugging someone she'd only briefly met six years ago, she returned the embrace. It was calming to have someone in your arms after so long. After he had dropped his arms he introduced her to his friend. "Idril, this is Murtagh, my friend. And Murtagh, this is Idril. She was a runaway when she came to us and we offered to take her in. She said 'no' though."

Murtagh nodded in greeting to her. She smiled. Eragon spoke again. "Idril, what are you doing out here? Do you live in Leona?"

"No…I'm still a runaway. I was…just passing through and I heard you guys saying you were looking for someone."

"Err…yes." Not wanting to give away their real purpose too quickly, Murtagh added, "Have you seen anyone out here?"

"No. There's no one but me." Idril sounded very similar to Murtagh with her depressed, miserable-sounding voice. She figured he must've gone through some tough times like her. Idril used her hand, palm outward, to brush away the hair in her face. Something caught Murtagh's eye. There was something on Idril's hand.

"What's that on your palm?" Idril looked petrified. She quickly tried to hide her hand behind her back, but Murtagh had already seen it. Eragon looked expectantly at her. She sighed and brought the palm into plain view.

Eragon looked down at her hand, and then back at her face, and down at her hand again. "It's you, isn't it? You're the new Dragon Rider."


	5. Chapter 4: Home

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated in forever! I had writer's block and final exams. I swear school was invented to make me suffer. Just kidding... or am I? Anyways... enjoy the chapter! And if it isn't to much to ask, I'd _love _a review. Thanks.**

**Disclaimer: Do you think I have enough creative genius to think up Murtagh, Saphira, Brom, and Eragon in all their wonderfulness? The answer is no. It all belongs to Christopher Paolini.**

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><p>Chapter Four<p>

Home

"I can't believe you're a Dragon Rider. It just seems so strange. I mean, we met six years ago and we're both Dragon Riders?" Eragon casually said as he still held Idril's hand in his. Feeling the heat in her cheeks, she pulled away slowly.

"The world works in mysterious ways, Eragon." Murtagh chimed in from the background.

"Idril, where is he? Where's your dragon?" Eragon looked overly excited. It was making Idril slightly uncomfortable.

"I don't know if it's a 'he' yet, but the little guy is in here." She pointed to her leather bag.

"Can we see it?" Eragon asked eagerly.

"Sure…" As soon as the words had passed through her lips, Eragon grabbed the bag from her shoulder and opened it up. Idril's white dragon hopped out. Eragon's face lit up. Murtagh and Idril looked at each other. "Is he always like this?" She asked him with a puzzled look on her face.

"Only with dragons." Eragon was trying to pet the dragon when it suddenly growled. Eragon tried again, but this time it bit Eragon's finger. He yelped and pulled his hand back. Murtagh laughed while Idril picked her dragon up off the ground.

"Hey, little one, that wasn't very nice." Idril shook one finger at her dragon, reprimanding him for his actions. Then it gave her the innocent 'puppy-dog eyes,' and she smiled. "Sorry, Eragon."

"No problem. But you have one _feisty _little dragon there." Idril laughed.

"Speaking of feisty dragons, where is Saphira?" Murtagh asked his friend.

"She's coming. She was getting water. I guess we can go home now since we found Idril." _Home_. Idril didn't have a home. She had 'camps' and 'napping places,' but never a 'home.' The thought of having one made chills run down her spine. She hadn't slept in an actual bed for six years. She was exhausted from running. She just wanted a home. A place where she could belong.

Just then, a large dragon came swooping down and landing in the clearing. Idril was amazed at the creature. She had seen a full-grown dragon once before, but that was a long, long time ago…

Idril guessed this creature was Saphira. Eragon's dragon. She was beautiful. Blue and majestic, Saphira stared Idril and the little dragon down. Idril's dragon jumped from her hands and walked over to the infinitely larger Saphira. The elder dragon did nothing but stared and barred her teeth. Eragon began to laugh suddenly. Idril figured he was laughing at something Saphira said (her father had told her that dragons and their Riders could speak to each other), but Idril would never know what exactly that was.

The large blue dragon mesmerized Idril so much so that she slowly walked towards the great creature. With her hand outstretched, Idril pushed past Murtagh, Eragon, and her own dragon. Saphira just stared warily at the seventeen-year-old. Saphira slowly lowered her head to meet Idril's hand. When the two touched for the first time, Idril knew she had found her destiny. She _was _a Dragon Rider.

Idril stood there for a few moments, in awe of the great creature before her. "When will my dragon get this big?" She asked without taking her eyes off Saphira.

Eragon shrugged. "Depends, really. Not that I have much experience…but Brom told me all dragons were different."

"Who's Brom?" Idril let her hand fall by her side as she glanced back at Eragon. The blond haired boy looked down and sighed.

"He was…a friend." It was almost painful for him to say it. Idril did not altogether understand, but she guessed that Eragon's 'friend' was no longer with them. She immediately dropped the subject and picked up her little dragon, carefully placing it in her satchel for safe-keeping. She glanced over at Murtagh. He was watching her diligently, perhaps trying to discover her personality.

"So, we really should head back to the Varden." Eragon declared, scratching the back of his head after the uncomfortable moment had passed.

"The Varden?" Idril questioned. As often as she had wandered through Alagaësia, Idril had never stumbled upon so much as a whisper of the Varden. She was quite curious.

"It's where the resistance to Galbatorix resides. Almost like their camp. They'll help you." Murtagh straightforwardly answered.

"Help me? Why would I need help?" The seventeen-year-old was confused. It was almost as if someone was after her. Of course, someone _was_, but no one besides herself and her father would know about that.

"Now that you're a Dragon Rider, Galbatorix will do anything in his power to have you." Idril froze. She forgot about that. Galbatorix's obsession for the power dragons possessed. No way was she going to be caught and sent back to the very place she had avoided for the past six years. "We should really leave soon. I'm sure someone might've noticed a large dragon flying over their house." Murtagh sounded almost anxious to get back to the Varden.

"Err…Saphira says she can't take all of us at once. One of us will have to walk." Idril was confused again. Didn't they know they'd be taking another person back with them? And they didn't bring a horse for the trip back? She didn't know how long it was to the Varden, but she assumed it was more than a day's walk.

"I have an idea. Eragon you ride on Saphira as Idril and I walk. Then Saphira puts you down, doubles back, and picks us up. That way it won't take as long." Eragon gave a curt nod and walked towards his dragon. "Is that alright with you, Idril?"

"Yes, but next time you know you'll be taking another human home with you, bring a horse." Idril stated, tone dripping with sarcasm. Eragon jumped onto the leather saddle fitted for Saphira and looked to his friends.

"Saphira will pick you up at Furnost in a day. Don't be late." He said with a smile. The blond suddenly lifted off the ground as Saphira batted her wings, bring both herself and Eragon high into the sky. After Idril finished watching the two fly off, she turned to Murtagh.

"Furnost? In a day? It would take more than two to get there by foot." He grumbled to her. She snorted and the black-haired boy stared at her blankly. "What could possibly be funny?"

"I can get there in ten hours." It was a silent challenge. The two of them suddenly bolted off into the forest without saying a word. Idril liked Eragon's friend.

The two kept running until they exited The Spine. Roughly an hour had passed since Murtagh and Idril had begun their little footrace. As soon as Murtagh reached the forest's edge he slowed. Head hunched over and hands resting on his knees, he had worn himself out. He hadn't had to do this much running for a while. Idril slowed down with him. She knew she shouldn't have pushed him so hard. Now he was probably going to need a long rest before they could continue. "Are you alright?" She asked Murtagh, not so much as a heavy breath escaping her lips.

"I'm…fine…can…we…rest…for a moment?" Idril giggled a little as the twenty-year-old was huffing and puffing.

"Sure. I guess you don't run much, huh?" Idril reached a hand in her bag, careful not to disturb her sleeping dragon, for her water canister.

"Apparently…not…as much as…you." His breaths were gradually slowing as he needed less air to fill his lungs.

"Here. Drink this." Idril held out the water she had fished out from her bag to Murtagh. He accepted it graciously. A few moments later, the leather container holding the water was empty. Murtagh had drunk it all. Idril laughed. "It's a good thing Lake Leona's right there or I wouldn't have gotten anything to quench my thirst." Murtagh looked apologetic.

"Sorry…" Idril smiled. She wasn't used to this much smiling and laughing and giggling. Perhaps the stranger had some sort of odd effect on her?

"It's alright. I shouldn't have made you run so far." Idril shrugged.

"Speaking of which, why aren't you even _sweating_?" Murtagh and Idril were now walking towards Lake Leona so the girl could fill her water container back up.

"I run a lot. Half my day is spent running, the other half, sprinting."

Once Murtagh and Idril had reached the sandy shore of the lake, Idril dropped down to the water, filling up her canister with water. Murtagh sat on the shore next to her. As Idril finished, she sat back on the ground with him. She noticed for the first time it was sunset.

The pink sun reflected on the lake's surface and turned the two's skin a soft orange color. Idril hugged her knees to her chest as she let her dragon go explore the nearby lake. She glanced over at Murtagh. For the first time, she was seeing him clearly. His long dark hair extending to a little before his shoulders. His one scar running from the side of his forehead to beyond his eyebrow, now white with age. His long regal nose a bit curved. His soft pale skin that looked almost clammy as the sun turned his sweat a warm pink color. His light cherry lips opened slightly to show his front teeth, perfectly white and straight. And his eyes… grey with sadness, loneliness, a hint of mystery glinting in them. For some reason, Idril thought she knew that face. It was as if she had seen it somewhere, long ago, somewhere she didn't want to remember, but couldn't forget.

"I think I've seen you somewhere before." Idril suddenly blurted out as her dragon was taking large gulps of the water from the lake. Murtagh turned towards the girl, three years younger than himself.

"Wouldn't surprise me. I'm a rogue like you. Perhaps we have crossed paths before." Idril thought hard. No, she would have remembered seeing him. His face wasn't easy to forget, especially for someone like Idril.

"I don't think so. Where did you live before becoming a rogue?" Maybe Idril had seen him in the palace somewhere, in her previous life.

"That isn't important." He shrugged the question off. Idril and Murtagh stared at each other for a while before suddenly figuring out where she had seen him. The realization hit her like a boulder falling from the sky. She remembered him. How could she possibly forget?

"Morzan." Idril whispered, but she knew Murtagh heard her.

"What?" He pretended as if Idril was making a wild accusation, as if Morzan wasn't his father and he had never heard of the name before. All the memories flooded back to her…

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><p><strong>AN: So there you have it! I'll update shortly! Please leave any questions or comments by pressing that button below! If you don't Saphira will come eat you!**


	6. Chapter 5: Leona Lake

**A/N: Hey everyone! I kinda like this chapter. Just because I get to have Murtagh and Idril interact. It was fun writing it. Please read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Are you kidding? I don't own Eragon - I couldn't come up with a character as cool as Murtagh. **

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><p>Chapter Five<p>

Leona Lake

_"Can I go play, Father?" A five-year-old pale, redheaded Idril half-whined, half-asked her father. _

_"Silence. You may not 'go play.'" The very words on her father's tongue didn't sound right. "There is someone you must meet first." Idril looked up at her father. She believed him to be so majestic and noble. She wanted to be just like her father when she grew up._

_"Who is it?" Idril's face showed her excitement. She didn't get to see new people everyday. It was always her father and mother, and that uninteresting man with the evil black eyes. Sometimes, if she was lucky, she would see a passing child from her window in the palace. Idril used to make up personalities for the children. She gave them names and pretended they were her friends. They were the only people her age she had ever seen. _

_"Your betrothed." Idril didn't understand what this word meant. Perhaps it was a fancy word for friend? Her father _did _like to use fancy words…_

_Just then, a boy shuffled shyly into the grand room where the girl and her father stood. A nursemaid followed after him, but stayed much father away than the boy who was rapidly approaching the two. Idril could barely contain her excitement. She finally had her own friend! The boy didn't appear to share the same enthusiasm. His head was lowered to the ground and his hands were balled up into fists. "Idril, this is Murtagh. He's the son of Morzan, whom you have met several times." Idril knew the man he was talking about. This 'Morzan' wasn't very nice to Idril and he had the oddest eyes. One blue, the other black. It frightened Idril a little. But she was too excited to be concerned that his son was the same way. The small redhead ran to the boy joyfully. _

_"Hello Murtagh. I'm Idril." She smiled wide and showed off her girlish charm. Murtagh just looked away._

_"Please, Idril, act like a proper woman. You're an embarrassment to your race." Idril looked back at her father, whose face was grim and disgusted. She backed away from the boy and imitated his action – looking down. "Idril, this is the boy you will marry when you grow older. Until then, you are ordered not to speak, or even be in proximity of each other. Do you understand?" Both the children nodded slowly. "Good. Come, Idril." The pale girl turned and walked with her father out of the room, but not before taking one last peek at the boy she was leaving._

_He was looking at her. Murtagh's eyes were staring straight into Idril's. They betrayed his emotions. He was sad, perhaps lonely. It was almost as if his eyes were…crying out for someone to help him. Idril wanted to go back, to hug Murtagh, to tell him everything would be okay. But she didn't. She followed her father and left the lost boy behind her. _

Murtagh looked down. "I thought you wouldn't remember." He paused. "I _hoped _you wouldn't remember." He mumbled the last part so Idril couldn't hear it.

"Well, I was only five…but since you were probably one of the four people I met in my ten years at the palace, it was kind of hard to forget. Also, I was sort of going to marry you someday…" Idril scratched the back of her head, feeling the uncomfortable moment arise. Murtagh chuckled softly.

"Yes, you couldn't imagine my displeasure as I learned my ten-year-old fiancé had run away." Murtagh said sarcastically. Idril laughed. "By the way, how _did _you manage that, anyway?" Idril's eyes grew darker.

"You know who my father is. You know _exactly _how I managed that." Idril spoke in a dark tone. If it was possible, her hair seemed to get redder. Murtagh noticed and backed off the topic. "Anyway, why didn't you say something when you first saw me today?"

"I guess…I was still angry with you." He finally admitted.

"Angry? Why? I've only seen you once in my whole life."

"I was three when you were born. The Forsworn and your father celebrated. I'm not really sure _why_ they celebrated. I guess they thought you were a potential Dragon Rider. Anyway, when my father came home, I was still too young to understand he had too much to drink. I was just trying to give him a hug and in a drunken fit, he threw his sword at me and gave me this…" Murtagh turned his back to Idril, grabbed the end of his shirt, and pulled it up. Idril immediately saw the scar running from his shoulder down to his hip. She gasped. He lowered the shirt. "I use to blame it on you." Idril looked sympathetic.

"I'm so sorry, Murtagh. If I had known I would've…" Murtagh interrupted her.

"It's not your fault, Idril. You couldn't _not _be born."

"True, but it doesn't change the fact I feel awful." The twenty-year-old just smiled weakly.

"It's really alright. It was all my father's doing. Besides, you've got some scars of your own, probably given to you by _your_ father." Idril lifted a hand to her cheek. She felt the diagonal scar running down her face. Idril frowned.

"Yes, I do. My father gave me this one when I failed to perform footwork properly during sword-fighting practice one day." The edges of Murtagh's mouth slanted down slightly, in a concerned frown.

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about him anymore." Idril thought Murtagh was referring to the fact she had runaway from the castle seven years ago. She nodded.

"We should probably get going, Murtagh, so we can find some shelter. We should get some rest too."

"Good idea." He said and abruptly stood. Idril called her dragon back into her bag, and then stood. She noticed Murtagh was a good head taller than she was. She blushed when she realized how close Murtagh and her were standing. Idril wiped the sand off her worn leather pants. The two began to walk side-by-side. Murtagh suddenly spoke, "I've been trying to figure something out. Why did they want us not to speak to each other until we were married? It seems like a strange command."

"I guess they didn't want us to get any closer. They wouldn't want us to develop actual feelings towards one another, would they? No, we had to be taught blind faith and loyalty in the king first." Idril paused as Murtagh nodded, understanding his companion's point. "Hey, Murtagh?"

"Hmm?" He responded, still deep in thought.

"Are you…are you…scared of me?" Idril winced, as if preparing herself for the answer she didn't want to hear. Murtagh instantly turned towards her.

"What would I be scared of?"

"Of me…of what I am." Murtagh thought about this, perhaps for a moment longer than necessary.

"No, I'm not scared of you. We don't choose who we are, or who are families are, but we choose how our lives play out. It doesn't matter if your father was the vilest creature in all of Alagaësia, it only matters that _you_ decided to runaway from him, _you_ decided to be better than him." Idril looked away. She knew she wasn't better than her father was. She was a thief and a coward. She didn't even have the courage to remained imprisoned when she was caught. There was nothing good inside of her, really. She knew the blood coursing through her veins was susceptible to evil. And she knew she was likely to give in someday.

Murtagh and Idril walked on. The sun was almost gone and darkness was slowly engulfing them. They hiked another hour before finding a suitable shelter. The shelter was just a couple of trees, but it was enough to keep Idril and Murtagh safe for a night. When they had successfully built a fire, settled in, and ate a bit of food, Murtagh turned to Idril and said, "I'll take first watch."

"Watch? Do we need to keep watch?" Idril asked over the crackle of the flames. She couldn't help but notice how the firelight gleamed on Murtagh's face, accenting his features perfectly.

"Idril, you're a Dragon Rider now. People will be after you and your dragon. I'll wake you if anything goes wrong."

"But I'm not tired. I'll take first watch. You sleep." Judging by the look on Idril's face, Murtagh wasn't about to get his way, so he simply fell on his back and closed his eyes. He let sleep take over.

Idril sat there, looking up at the bright stars in the sky. She could hear Murtagh's breath faintly. It was calming. She couldn't remember the last time she heard breathing, other than her own, of course.

She wondered how all of this could have happened to her in a day. Becoming a Dragon Rider, meeting up with _two _of her old acquaintances; it seemed farfetched. Like a dream. She half-expected to wake up in that cave where she found her dragon. That's when she remembered the white and gold scaly little creature currently residing in her satchel.

She opened up the bag, releasing the dragon inside. It hopped out and stared into Idril's blue eyes. "Hello, little one, are you hungry?" The dragon continued staring. Something rustled in the leaves of a nearby bush. Idril immediately turned to the noise and prepared to shake Murtagh awake. But the dragon just scampered off into the bush and came back a minute later with a rabbit in its mouth. Idril giggled softly, feeling silly she had thought the rabbit was some terrible creature.

After the dragon was finished with his late night snack, Idril picked him up and began stroking his head. If dragons could purr, hers would be. She sat there, thinking, until Murtagh woke up a couple hours later. He told her to get some sleep, and she happily obliged, feeling drowsiness finally start to set in. Idril fell asleep with her dragon safely curled up in the crook of her arm.

Having nothing else to do, Murtagh watched the dragon, a little envious both his friends were Dragon Riders and he was just ordinary Murtagh. Soon, however, Murtagh couldn't resist watching Idril sleep too. He remembered the little girl she once was, innocent and pure. She hadn't known what her father was, what _she _was. Murtagh thought back to her earlier question – _was_ he scared of her? He knew he probably should be. She was dangerous. A walking time bomb. She could go off at any moment. There was something inherently evil about her, as if wickedness was woven into her being. Though it was hard to see – one had to look extremely close – he knew it was there. It was as if she had cut that part of her personality off, but the slightest thing would trigger it, turning her into the creature she was born to be. Hadn't he always held the belief that one didn't have to become like his father? Was it the same in Idril's case? He didn't really know. More than just genes were passed on from father to daughter.

At a standstill in his thoughts, Murtagh had realized he was still staring at Idril. In the firelight, her face was different. More serene. And her sleeping only added to the serenity. Her hair was an auburn mess, falling sloppily to her waist. She had a heart-shaped face and almond eyes, and her ears were slightly pointed at the tips. Her skin was a tan, golden color, but Murtagh remembered her five-year-old self – so pale it was almost translucent. Taking one last look at her, Murtagh forced his eyes to the ground. He couldn't help but wonder – _how can someone so beautiful have so many inner demons? _

**A/N: Hehe... inner demons. Did anyone figure out who Idril's father is by now? Anyway... I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will update as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and please, if it's not too much to ask, could you press that blue button below and review? **


	7. Chapter 6: Furnost

**A/N: So I'm not completely in love with this chapter. It starts out slow, but it picks up a little in the end. Just bear with me. I'm hoping the next chapter will be a little more interesting (I have a super secret plan for it!). And I'm sorry it took me so long to update. I had to get my creative juices flowing beforehand. hehe. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed/favorited - It is much appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: Still don't own anything but Idril and her little dragon! **

Chapter Six:

Furnost

Idril woke to a hand gently shaking her, and a cool voice whispering, "Idril, wake up. We should get going." She slowly opened her eyes to see a dark-haired Murtagh sitting next to her. She looked around and noticed the sun just coming up over the horizon. Birds sang in the distance and Idril's dragon opened its mouth to yawn. Idril couldn't help but yawn herself. The fire near Idril's feet had died and only the scorched wood was left.

Idril sat up. She took the last of her bread (she had shared some with Murtagh the night before) and split it between them. "Here." She pushed the bread towards the twenty-year-old. He took it and ate it in three bites. "I don't suppose you have any food?"

"No." Idril sighed. Again, if they knew someone wasn't going back to the Varden on Saphira, why wouldn't they pack extra food? She was started to doubt the intelligence of the so-called 'resistance.' Or maybe of just Eragon and Murtagh.

"Well, let's be on our way. We still have a little while before we make it to Furnost." Idril stood and Murtagh followed her actions. Her dragon had already hopped into her bag. The two were off in no time.

They didn't talk much besides the usual observations like 'don't step in that ditch,' or 'let's rest for a moment.' Idril and Murtagh were perfectly content in the silence. They didn't really have anything to say anyway. What would one talk about with their arranged fiancé? It was an uncomfortable walk for the two of them.

The travelers arrived at Furnost a little before the prescribed time so Murtagh turned to Idril and asked, "Do you want to just wait in the town until Saphira shows herself to us?" Idril looked down and kicked a rock over lightly with her foot.

"I don't really think that would be a good idea."

"Why not?" Murtagh asked, confused.

"Let's just say I'm not welcome there. These clothes," she gestured to the worn leather pants and burlap-looking shirt, "are courtesy of the town's tailor, and he wasn't too happy about it." Murtagh nodded, understanding. She had stolen her clothing from the people of Furnost.

"Well, we'll just have to stay on the outskirts until Saphira comes for us." Idril pressed her lips together and pursed them. She nodded, feeling a bit guilty that she was the reason they couldn't enter the town. The two wandered over to a pair of large rocks, big enough for them to sit on, and leaned against them. Idril sighed. Their day was turning out to be a very uneventful one.

"How will we know when Saphira gets here?" Idril asked, swatting a fly away from her face. She mainly spoke only to fill the uncomfortable silence that had filled the entire day.

"Well, I think we'll be able to spot an enormous blue creature flying through the sky. But perhaps we should move to a more open area so she'll be easier to see?" Idril almost smacked herself for asking such a dumb question. Who _wouldn't_ see a sixty-foot dragon soaring through the air? Idril noticed the sarcasm in Murtagh's voice and decided she would return the favor.

"What a great idea, Murtagh. How do you get such fantastic ideas?" He caught on to her sarcasm and smirked.

"It's a gift, really." They stared at each other for a moment before both burst out into laughter. Neither of them really understood why they were laughing – it wasn't _that _funny. But once they began, they couldn't stop. After all the uncomfortable silence of the day, it was good to get a little comic relief.

They couldn't stop laughing until Idril saw a blue dragon overhead, flying towards them. "Murtagh," she paused, waiting for him to settle down, "Unless there is another blue dragon in Alagaësia, Saphira has just arrived." Sure enough, Saphira landed in front of them as Idril was speaking.

Idril smiled as she approached the giant dragon before her. Even in that short amount of time that Eragon had left for the Varden, Idril began to forget what Saphira looked like. Now Idril was wondering how that was ever possible…who could forget a creature as majestic as a dragon? She hadn't noticed Murtagh coming up behind her until he hopped onto the dragon's saddle. As soon as the dark-haired man was settled in, he held out a hand for Idril to take. She graciously accepted as he hoisted her onto Saphira's saddle.

Idril sat directly behind Murtagh, feeling a bit uncomfortable at how close they were sitting together. She hadn't had much contact with regular sorts of people in a long time and now an _extremely _handsome man was so close that he could feel her breath on his neck? Her face reddened with embarrassment and she placed her hands at her sides. Murtagh craned his neck around to barely face her. "You may want to hold on." Saphira immediately took off. It was such a sudden force that Idril yelped a little and grabbed hold of Murtagh's waist, grateful for some sort of anchor.

At first, Idril was a little apprehensive about flying. She was _so_ high off the ground. She held on the saddle for dear life as she felt Saphira's pulsating wings lift them higher and higher. Her heart sank into her stomach as fear gripped Idril's mind. Then, as soon as they reached a considerable altitude, Saphira shot forward.

As Idril experienced the wind ripping through her hair and sliding along her body, fear was the furthest thing from her mind. She was quite enjoying her ride, and Murtagh noticed. "Having a good time, Idril?" He had to scream over the roaring wind.

With a howl to show her excitement, Idril replied, "I was made for this, Murtagh! I was made for flying!" Idril was laughing and smiling the entire way to Farthen Dûr. She couldn't remember a time she was so happy for so long. Her bliss was infectious as Murtagh laughed along with her. He was laughing amused at Idril more than from the enjoyment of the ride, however. He couldn't help but feeling like Idril had turned back into that five-year-old girl he had met so long ago, innocent and enthusiatic.

They arrived at Farthen Dûr in just over two hours – as opposed to the two extra days it would have taken for them to walk there – and Saphira began to lower her altitude. They continued to loose elevation until Saphira was flying very near the trees below. Idril hadn't really been paying attention for a while, feeling totally safe on Saphira's back. Now, the blue dragon was heading straight for a waterfall, and she didn't seem to be changing her course. "Murtagh…?" She tried to get his attention, growing a bit apprehensive that Saphira seemed determined to run into the waterfall. Murtagh didn't answer. If the two had been in slightly different positions, Idril would have seen a small amused smile forming on Murtagh's lips. "Murtagh!" Idril felt like something was terribly wrong. Was he sure Saphira knew what she was doing? They were nearing the water at an extremely high speed. It came closer and closer and closer until… Saphira flew right into the center of the waterfall.

All Idril could feel was water pouring over her body, and then nothing at all. She vaguely heard the sound of a great creature landing and Murtagh's voice in her ear saying, "Welcome to Farthen Dûr, the home of the Varden." Idril was still in shock; she hadn't even realized her eyes were closed. She swiftly opened them and looked around.

Idril was still tightly clutching Murtagh's waist, and as he tried to jump off Saphira, the redhead pulled him back to her. "It's alright, Idril. You're just in a bit of shock, but you're safe. I won't let anything happen to you." He whispered kindly. She swallowed hard and reluctantly let go of Murtagh's waist.

"Well, it seems you've returned to that same pale state I first met you in, Idril." Idril smiled faintly, recognizing Eragon's voice. The color had all drained from Idril's face and she must be near the same sort of pale as when Eragon and she had met six years ago. She couldn't help but feel like he was an older brother teasing his little sister. "I'm guessing Murtagh didn't tell you that there _wasn't_ solid rock on the other side of the waterfall? How cruel, Murtagh." Eragon said, jokingly. Idril was still frozen in place.

"I thought I'd have a spot of fun." Murtagh told his friends as he picked Idril up around the waist and plopped her on the floor. Idril suddenly regained consciousness and turned to Murtagh.

"That's your idea of fun? I thought you were leading me to my death! That was most definitely _not_ fun!" Idril spat at the man, who just chuckled.

"Well, it's great to see you two again. How was your trip?" Eragon asked lightly.

"Oh, it was fantastic, just fantastic right up until the _end, _of course." Idril remarked, very sarcastically.

"Let it go, Idril. I was just trying to make things a little more interesting." Murtagh said. Idril just snorted.

"Anyway, Idril, I have some people for you to meet…" Eragon motioned towards two regal-looking figures, one man and one woman, with dark skin and eyes.

"This is Ajihad, the leader of the Varden, and his daughter, Nasuada." Idril wasn't sure if she should bow or turn her eyes away from them as if they were royalty.

"It is good to meet the new Dragon Rider. I would like to welcome you to Farthen Dûr and tell you that any friend of Eragon and Murtagh's is a friend of ours. You can stay here as long as you desire. And in honor of your arrival to the Varden, we shall celebrate with a grand feast tonight." Ajihad's voice was deep and rhythmic, but also warm and welcoming. Idril's stomach lightly grumbled as she realized just how hungry she truly was. "My daughter will show you to your quarters and help prepare you for this evening. Nasuada?"

The pretty woman who couldn't have been much older than Murtagh stepped forward and grabbed Idril's hand. "Come, you're in dire need of a bath and new clothes." Nasuada tugged on the pale girl's hand and dragged her along behind her. Idril snuck one last glance at the boys she was leaving. Murtagh and Eragon now seemed to be discussing something of importance with Ajihad as they all spoke in hushed tones. Idril couldn't hear a word herself, and gave up on trying after Nasuada tugged on her arm for the third time.

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><p>"Why am I still awaiting my Dragon Rider, Durza?" A large man with coal black eyes asked a rather cowering Durza.<p>

"Because, Master, this Dragon Rider isn't like any other I've heard of before…" The red-haired shade reasoned.

"Do you think I care, Durza? This Dragon Rider could very well be in the hands of the Varden by now. If he isn't easily persuaded to my side, you will be in some very big trouble. I didn't raise you from the dead to have you fail _once again._"

"The Dragon Rider is somehow cloaking himself with his magic from my sight. I'm not sure how he is managing to do this, but as soon as I find him I shall bring him to you." It was extraordinary that a human who had just become a Dragon Rider could already perform magic. Highly advanced forms of magic, too. Perhaps he didn't realize he was casting such a thing over himself, but as long as the 'magical force field' was working, Durza could not find the new Dragon Rider.

"Good. I have _big _plans for this Rider. Big plans, indeed."

**A/N: Alright guys and gals! Thanks so much for reading. I really appreciate it. I hope you'll be super kind and review for me? You know, reviewing might just make these chapters come out faster...**


	8. Chapter 7: Haircut

**A/N: I'm SO SO SO SO SOOOO sorry! I haven't updated since July and this isn't even that long of a chapter. I tried! I really did! But school is making me have no life right now. I deserve horrible punishments, I know! But all I can say is that I haven't given up on this story. I will write it if it's the last thing I do!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Eragon, why wouldn't I be swimming in piles of cash right now?**

Chapter Seven:

Haircut

"When is the last time you cut your hair, Idril? Or even washed it?" Nasuada asked with a disgusted tone in her voice. The dark-skinned girl held a piece of Idril's red, tangled hair in her hand. There was visible leaves and twigs in it, as well as being so soaked with mud that Nasuada couldn't even separate one clump from another.

"Well…er…I wear it up most of the time. It always gets in the way when I'm running. But I fell in the forest yesterday and the hair tie was lost in the leaves." Idril laughed nervously. How does Nasuada expect her to brush her hair everyday? Hair was useless; it falls all over the place and is a constant reminder of who Idril's father is. Nasuada pursed her lips and looked Idril up and down thoughtfully. A whole minute later, she snapped her fingers and had an expression of realization on her face.

"I know what to do with you! Come on, let's go get you cleaned up." Nasuada grabbed Idril's arm once again and pulled her into a room.

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><p>After Idril had a fully scourging bath of scalding hot water, Nasuada draped a silky tunic over her body and led her to chair. Then she pulled out her weapon – a comb. Or at least, it was a weapon in Idril's point of view. Nasuada took a deep breath and sighed before plunging into the wet, tangled mass of red hair. "You've severely neglected your hair, Idril. Your tangles are almost breaking my comb." Nasuada giggled shamelessly.<p>

"Sorry…" Idril stated awkwardly. Now she actually felt bad about not taking care of her hair. Her dragon had somehow escaped from within the confines of her satchel and now sat on the wooden chest in front of Idril. The creature simply watched with curious eyes. It eased her conscious knowing her dragon was there.

"No worries. We'll have you fixed up beautifully for the feast tonight. Then I never want to see your hair like _this _ever again." Nasuada continued combing until the tangles all came undone. Then, she did something that made Idril even more anxious. She pulled out cutting shears.

"That's not really necessary, is it? You've done a good enough job just by brushing the hair. Do you have to cut it?" Her hair may have been a reminder of who her father was, but it also brought her closer to her mother. She remembered her mother stroking her hair and planting light kisses in it. How she longed for that once more.

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><p><em>It was late. After sundown, even. Idril sat on her mother's lap, using her heat to warm her eight-year-old body. Idril cried into her mother's shoulder, the fireplace crackling behind her. "Don't cry, little one. Don't let one bad day spoil the night you spend with your mother." This statement was true. Idril had one night a month to spend with her mother. That's all her father would allow her. The rest she was taken care of by a whole host of nursemaids, none of which she actually knew the names. Her father wouldn't want Idril becoming too close to anyone; then it's harder to bend her the way he wants. <em>

_Idril continued to cry. Though the bleeding had stopped long before, the cut on Idril's cheek stung. And the tears only added salt to the wound. "Why…Why would…Father d-do that? I t-tried s-so hard, I really did, Mother." Idril tried to speak through the sobs, but she had a hard time finding the breath. Her mother looked down at her with pity in her eyes and hushed her quietly. The weary woman pressed her daughter's head into her chest and lightly stroked her hair. The girl could feel the cold metal of necklace on her face. Though she comforted her daughter, Idril would only have to look up to see a single tear slipping down her mother's cheek. _

_"He loves you, my child. He loves you more than flowers love the sun." She told her daughter what she needed to hear – what they _both _needed to hear. Idril's mother swallowed with some difficulty. Her eyes looked darkly into the fire, making the flames dance within two black orbs. The woman then sadly closed her eyes. As if in pain, she squinted and suppressed another tear. One…two….three…deep breaths later, she opened her eyes and placed her hands on Idril's shoulders, lightly pushing her away. Her tone suddenly went low and serious. "Idril. Idril, dear, listen to me. I need you to pay attention. Can you pay attention for me, sweet girl?" _

_Crystal blue eyes stared into each other. Mother and daughter shared a look of pure understanding. No words were truly needed, but her mother said them anyway. "Know that I love you. Know that I would do anything for you. Know that I am always with you. Don't forget this, Idril. You are headed for hard times, but you are loved…so loved. And in the end, we'll be together again."_

_A violent rapping came at the door. It startled the mother as she jumped slightly at the sound, and glanced at the wooden door. And then she looked back at her daughter, worry evident in her eyes. Another knock. He was expecting her to open the door. Idril's mother planted light kisses on her daughter's head. Idril felt her mother's lips tremble as tears dropped into the red hair. "Goodbye, my lovely little demon. I love you." _

_The door slammed open. Her father entered, rage distorting his pale face…_

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><p>The memory made Idril go rigid. She hadn't even noticed most of her hair was gone. Nasuada was finishing up on her job, shaping the last of the strands of red so they would be even with the rest. "There," she said, "now you look civilized at least." The dark-skinned woman opened her lips in a smile to show two rows of brilliantly white teeth. "I'll have to style the hair a bit more elaborately for the feast though. We must have you stun the multitudes with your beauty. Then, of course, I can boast of my great success." Nasuada laughed melodiously, filling the room with warmth. "But before the styling, let's get you into a dress, shall we?"<p>

"Dress? No one said anything about a dress. Nuh-huh. No way I'm wearing a dress. I like pants just fine." Idril? In a dress? That was like asking a dragon to dance: ridiculous _and _dangerous.

"You can't wear pants to a Varden feast, Idril. It's either a dress or a long skirt sewn to a blouse."

"So, it's either a dress or a dress?" Idril raised an eyebrow.

"Exactly. Or no delicious food for you." Food. How she wanted to eat good food…

"…Fine…" Nasuada smiled devilishly and whisked Idril away to a wardrobe.

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><p>Ten minutes later, Idril was adorned in a green dress. It was long and flowed elegantly as Idril walked around, trying to rid herself of the strange feeling of being exposed. It had a square neckline with gold embellishments around the seams and a gold tie around the waist that rather resembled a rope. "I feel ridiculous, Nasuada."<p>

"Well, you _look _beautiful." Nasuada stepped back to reflect on the dress. She gave a curt nod before saying, "Come. Time for more hair."

Idril hesitantly made her way back to the chair before Nasuada began playing with her red locks. The older girl styled Idril's hair in an elaborate up-do that pulled the red away from her face, showing off her features brilliantly. With a few finishing touches, such as placed a golden headband on Idril's head, Nasuada pronounced, "Finished." Idril immediately stood from the chair, which made Nasuada giggle. "Would you like to see how you look?" She didn't wait for an answer. Nasuada traveled to the far end of the room and removed a curtain from a full-length looking glass. Idril didn't recognize herself.

She looked like an earthen goddess. Maybe all Idril needed was a bath and a haircut to make her beautiful. Her skin was free of dirt smudges and sweat, a look so rare Idril never noticed the glow her skin had. As beautiful as Idril was, she was standing mutely in front of the mirror, staring at her face. She lifted a hand to her scar and rubbed her fingers across it. Her mind shifted back to the memory of her mother. That had been the last time Idril had seen her alive. Her father hadn't allowed any more meetings for the two years the woman had lived. Idril's fingers fell from her face.

While Idril was still staring hopelessly into the mirror, her dragon was leaning over the edge of the wooden chest and was bobbing his head up and down. It almost seemed as if it was agreeing with his Rider's new look, but it was really searching for a way to jump off the chest and explore. The dragon went for it; the creature jumped off the chest. Unfortunately, the strap from Idril's satchel was caught around its foot. The entire contents of the bag spilled onto the floor.

The sudden noise woke Idril from her trance. When she looked back at her dragon, Nasuada was gently picking up her mother's necklace from where it fell onto the floor. She carefully held the necklace up, evidently admiring the emblem. "This is _beautiful, _Idril. You should wear it."

Idril took several giant strides across the room and grabbed the necklace from Nasuada's hands a little hastily. "I don't think so. I never wear it. It belonged to my mother." Nasuada knew she had touched a sore spot, and didn't prod any further. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it like that."

"No worries, Idril. Now, I think it's high time you helped _me _prepare for the feast." Idril and Nasuada smiled, knowing full well what a catastrophe Idril would be in deciding what dress and hairstyle Nasuada should wear.

**A/N: How'd I do? Disappointing? I had completely forgotten what my special plan for this chapter was when I was writing it, but I now remember and it will definitely be in the next chapter! Alright, well, leave me a review or Idril's mom will call you a demon too!**


	9. Chapter 8: The Feast

**A/N: Oh, SNAP! I updated in a fair amount of time. Time for cheering. YAY! Okay, on with the chapter. **

**Before we go though, I would like to address one reviewer. ChaygraceDaya. Thank you so much for reviewing. I appreciate your constructive crticism on my story, and I hope you'll continue to read this even though you thought it _was '_just another Galbatorix's daughter fic.' Well, when I said that it wasn't, I truly meant it. You'll find out just who her father is in the next chapter. So, thank you for your review and I hope I didn't sound too snarky or sarcastic (I'm really not trying to. Your advice is appreciated). Your take on my story just lets me know how well the plot twist I have planned will surprise you. **

**Thanks to all my reviewers, of course, especially those who have been with me since the very beginning. I so appreciate you. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Eragon._**

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><p>Chapter Eight<p>

The Feast

When both girls were sufficiently prepared, they headed down to the feast, anticipating all of the deliciously ornate food. Idril couldn't remember the last time she had eaten real food. Not stolen food, but _real _food. She glanced to Nasuada, who was drifting elegantly through the halls with more grace than Idril could have ever achieved.

If Idril looked like an earthen goddess, than Nasuada looked like an Amazon princess. Her dress was a glimmering gold with long sleeves and a long cathedral skirt. What appeared to be black scales covered the bodice and sleeves of the gown, but ended abruptly at the waist where the black melted away and returned to gold. Her skin was shining brilliantly, as if she had lightly dusted diamonds across her body. Her hands were adorned with many gold rings, most of them housing a different gem. The rest of her body may have been stunning, but her face was by far the most ethereal. Her cheeks were a rosy pink, her eyes a multi-layered brown, her lips a cherry red. She radiated the very air around her with a golden gleam. Idril was pale in comparison to the woman that walked beside her. The woman with no scars on her face or on her heart. The woman with so much beauty it could kill. The woman Idril wished she could be. But she never could.

It was true; Nasuada was more beautiful than Idril could ever be, even with her newfound look. But Idril possessed some other quality entirely, one which slightly leveled the playing grounds. Idril may not have been beautiful, but she was _attractive_. There was some sort of magnetism to the seventeen-year-old that beauty would only destroy. Maybe it was the mystery of her past, or maybe even the mystery of her future, that made her so enticing. One thing was certain – Murtagh looked directly past Nasuada to rest his eyes on Idril.

She blinked. She bit her lip. She stared. Murtagh was brilliant. Everyone had put on their best for the feast, and Murtagh was no exception. He wore black, like always. Black loose-fitting leather pants were tucked inside black boots. A black vest covered a black shirt. The vest had the same scaly embellishments as Nasuada's dress, only his were silver and covered his shoulder. His hair was combed messily, but this didn't detract from his handsomeness; in fact, it increased it to a point where Idril couldn't take her eyes off of him. She couldn't help thinking she'd like to comb the hair herself, only her comb would be her hands. The thought scared her, and Idril looked away.

Murtagh and Eragon had risen from their seats at the enormous wooden table in front of them. They both looked at Idril. Nasuada laughed. "I take full credit for Idril. She'd still have leaves in her hair were it not for me." Ajihad, who was seated at the head of the table, back to the girls, turned to see his daughter. He smiled, flashing white teeth, leaving all the Varden's troubles in its wake.

"My daughter. You look otherworldly, as always." Nasuada smiled shyly to her father. "How was such a beautiful young woman born to a man with my looks? You are a miracle." Nasuada quickly kissed her father on the cheek and took her place at her father's right. Idril walked to her seat beside Murtagh, and sat down. The boys sat down with her.

The table continued for another forty-five chairs, all filled with people (except for one. Strangely enough, the seat to Eragon's left was empty), and Idril hadn't seen a single one of them before in her lifetime. It was strange, sharing dinner with faces unfamiliar to her. Idril was so used to eating by herself, if she even ate at all. Murtagh leaned over to the redhead. "Odd, isn't it? Surrounded by people and yet almost completely alone? I used to feel that way all the time when I first arrived here. It gets better, I promise." Idril smiled faintly at the young man beside her, but her gaze was redirected to a girl making her way to the table.

The first thing Idril noticed was her ears. A strange thing to notice, of course, were it any other human. But this woman's ears were pointed. An elf. Idril's eyes widened and she felt her hands clench under the table. She self-consciously wished Nasuada hadn't insisted on fixing Idril's hair. She hoped that the elf couldn't see her slightly pointed ears. She didn't want ideas getting into anyone's head.

Luckily, the elf walked forward looking only at Eragon. She seemed to be in deep thought, as if considering a matter of unparalleled importance. She slightly bowed to Ajihad before taking the empty seat next to Eragon. He never took his eyes off her.

After getting past the initial shock of noticing the ears, Idril took in the rest of this woman's appearance. Her skin was slightly pale and also looked to be dusted with diamonds as Nasuada was. Her hair was a raven black that fell in soft waves down her back. Her eyes were green, a green that could only be described as the color of wet, dewy leaves. Her face cut with so many angles that gave her almost a cold, calculating expression. She wore a brown dress that accented her long body. She looked to Eragon and then to Idril and back to Eragon. She cleared her throat.

"Oh, right. Arya this is Idril. Idril this is Arya." They both smiled slightly at one another. Arya raised an eyebrow, the same expression of deep thought still evident on her brow. Idril looked away, toward Murtagh, who was watching her curiously. She wanted to know what was so interesting.

"What?" She whispered to him.

"She won't recognize you." He whispered back. Idril widened her eyes. Her expression quite resembled the same one she used when Murtagh had just flew Saphira through the waterfall. She kicked his foot under the table. "Ow." He stated with a perfectly blank face. It was sarcasm. Oh, how he was good at sarcasm.

Idril rolled her eyes and looked away. Thankfully, Ajihad had stood up and was now quieting down the feasters that were presently making small chatter. They went silent. "Welcome, my friends, to the grand feast of the Varden!" Those seated at the table clapped; a few cheered, probably excited for food. "We have a very special guest with us tonight. Everyone please welcome the newest Dragon Rider, Idril." Ajihad gestured to Idril. Suddenly the entire room full of eyes was on her, watching her, analyzing her. "She is a friend of Eragon and Murtagh and therefore a friend of ours!" They still watched her. The blood rushed to her face. Idril hated being the center of attention. She grinned shyly. Murtagh nudged her. She glanced at him. He was pointing upwards, as if he actually wanted her to stand up! She shook her head vigorously.

The next moment went by so quickly that Idril couldn't even decipher what was happening. Murtagh stood up. He took Idril's hand and yanked her up. Then he just sat back down. Idril would have reseated herself, but the second had passed. Everyone stared at her. She glanced around for a moment and smiled at everyone before plopping back into the chair. Her face was as red as her hair, and her hair was as red as fire. The embarrassing moment had passed, but Idril still dropped her head and languidly listened to Ajihad. "Now that introductions have been made, we shall celebrate. We have found a new Dragon Rider today. We are one step closer to defeating Galbatorix!" Everyone clapped and cheered at that. Suddenly, food was on tables and people were eating. Idril's eyes lit up when she saw the food, cooked to perfection. She ate, laughing and talking with Eragon, Murtagh, and Nasuada. Arya didn't seem to care much for her.

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><p><em>The man paced back and forth throughout his empty room. It was humongous, but only withheld two items: a desk and a bed. His shoes made a click-clack, click-clack against the stone floors as he walked. His hands were clasped behind his back and he just kept pacing. <em>

_He couldn't find her. He'd searched all of Alagaësia. He couldn't feel her anywhere. The man remembered staring into his wife's lifeless eyes, then glancing to those of his daughter. They were the same. Both lifeless. He'd killed them both that day. _

_When the man woke up the next day, he found his daughter gone. Escaped. How this was possible he couldn't tell, but heads were going to roll for this. _

_A guard entered the room. He looked petrified. "Sir?" He glanced to the guard. "We can't find her in the castle anywhere. We think she has escaped." _

_"OF COURSE SHE ESCAPED, YOU IDIOT! What I want to know is WHO IS RESPONSIBLE!" The young guard literally trembled in his armor, and he remained silent. The father of the missing girl snarled at the man. Suddenly, the guard's own spear was penetrating his chest, and he fell to the floor with a loud 'clang.' _

_The father was in a rage now. He walked along the corridors of the palace until he reached his late wife's room. It was exactly how she had left it. Exactly how she had left it the night she last saw her daughter. _

_He knew what she had done. What her elven magic had done to his daughter. He felt the connection being broken those two years ago. And he hadn't let them speak again. He didn't tell anyone, especially not his master. How could he? That man was more dangerous than he himself. That connection was vital. And now it was gone. _

_"Damn you! DAMN YOU!" He screamed to no one, or to someone that was no longer anyone. Every item in the room was now two feet off the ground. They were shaking, as if afraid of what the father would do to them. He barred his teeth and the items clashed together, swirling around in a cloud of destruction and debris. _

_He was going to die for this mistake, wasn't he?_

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><p>The food was the most delicious she'd ever tasted. Idril had eaten everything on that plate twice over before she admitted defeat. Then she quietly exited the room as everyone else was watching a band play a triumphant song about the Dragon Riders.<p>

Idril retired to her room. She had a piece of chicken in her hand she'd saved for her dragon. She fed the little guy and walked out on the balcony. The Varden was a beautiful place at night. It was lit up with brilliant displays of lanterns and fireflies. Soft music carried throughout the valley. The wind chimes next to her head clashed together as a lingering breeze blew them along. As beautiful as Farthen Dûr was, the sky was even better.

Idril leaned upon the wooden railing that enclosed her balcony and searched in the sky. Thousands of twinkling stars seemed to wink at her. The moon beamed, as if proud of her wrinkly face against the black backdrop. Idril sighed. Her white dragon leapt onto the railing beside her and sat, staring into the same sky.

A voice issued from behind her. "It's a great view." Her dragon and her turned to the deep, melancholic call. It was Murtagh.

"I know. I love the stars." She turned back to the sky as Murtagh stepped forward and took the side of his 'betrothed.'

"I wasn't talking about the stars." He smiled. She blushed furiously, but didn't reply. It was his goal to embarrass her tonight, wasn't it? "Why'd you leave the feast so early, Idril? They're about to dance." Idril shrugged.

"I can't dance. Besides, I just wanted to be alone." Murtagh nodded and turned, as if leaving. "Where are you going?"

"You said you wanted to be alone."

"You can stay."

"You said you wanted to be alone."

Idril sighed. "Please, stay." And with that, Murtagh whirled back around and leaned on the railing as Idril was. The listened to silence for a moment, enjoying its quiet melody as the stars twinkled on. "Do you remember anything about your mother, Murtagh?"

"Bits and pieces. I was only allowed to see her every few months."

"Me too. I wonder why he allowed me to see her at all. It would have been easier for us both if he hadn't. Why go through all that trouble if he was going to just end up killing her anyway?"

"Maybe he still loved her…in some sort of strange, deranged way." Idril scoffed.

"Do you have anything of hers?" Idril asked.

"She gave me a letter. But it was taken away before I even got the chance to read it. You?" Idril nodded slowly. She took her weight off the railing and entered her room. She found her satchel resting on her bed and the necklace within. Carefully, Idril retraced her steps back to the expectant Murtagh. She lifted the necklace so he could see it more clearly.

The silver reflected the moon, shining like a mirror in the night. The emblem swayed back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It appeared to be the sun. The center was filled in and the outside had jagged metal jutting out from the circle. It kept swaying.

"I knew it. I knew I had seen you before." Idril and Murtagh's heads both shot towards the unidentified voice, but Arya was already on her way to Ajihad.

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><p><strong>AN: So? Excited for the revelation? I AM! One last time before the climax... who dost thou thinketh Idril's daddy is? Leave in a review. If you get it right, I will give you a million dollars...or recognition in the next chapter. **


	10. Chapter 9: The Truth

**A/N: Well, that only took 5 months. Yep, I suck. Please yell at me every so often to kick my butt in gear. Thanks to Snowfox98 for making me feel guilty enough to finish this chapter (seriously, thank you!). And thank you to everyone else who stick with my extraordinarily long breaks between updates. I appreciate it and so do my grades! I hope you enjoy (I'm not really a fan of my writing in the first part, but I like the very last paragraphs) **

**Disclaimer: See previous disclaimer because I'm too lazy to type out a new one even though this note is probably longer than that one would ever be. **

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><p>Chapter Nine<p>

The Truth

Once again, Idril found herself running. She thought Farthen Dûr was a place where she could finally rest, where she wouldn't have to keep running from her past. But no. Like always, her past caught up with her, and it would screw everything up like it always did.

Idril found it difficult to run in a dress. So difficult that even Murtagh was ahead of her. Yet, they were nowhere near Arya. Fear bubbled inside of the redhead with every step she took. She knew all the running was no use. Sometimes it was impossible for _anyone_ to run from her past, even someone as skilled as Idril.

Murtagh and Idril looked at each other. He could tell she was worried. He tried to give her a comforting glance, but the running made it slightly hard.

She heard. Idril heard. Arya was shouting at the band to stop the music. She was calling for Ajihad. "Idril is not who you think she is! Listen, Ajihad! I knew something was off as soon as I walked into that feast. It was her! I knew I had seen her…" The hall had opened up to a magnificent lighted courtyard. Ajihad, Nasuada, and Eragon all stood at the far back, near a gazebo where the band was also located. Everyone was staring at Arya. They had all crowded around her, making it nearly impossible for Idril and Murtagh to make it through the throng, but they did anyway. She pushed through the people, refusing to look at any of their faces as she passed them.

"Arya, Arya, calm down. What about Idril?" The leader of the Varden seemed too intent on the elf that he didn't notice the very girl they were discussing appearing behind Arya.

Turning around, Arya glared right into Idril's eyes, saying: "Why don't you tell them yourself, Idril? Why don't you share who exactly _is _your father?" Idril dropped her head. It was over. All of the façade she had tried so laboriously to uphold was over. She didn't look up, but she imagined all of the confused and curious faces upon her. She drew in a deep breath and released the story.

"Eliadriena. That was her name. My mother. She was an elf from an ancient line leading all the way back to the first Eragon, the one who had convinced the world to reconsider our relationship with dragons. Lady Eliadriena. That is what they would call her. And this is what they would have identified anyone from the line of the first Eragon before she fell from respect and grace," she held up the necklace her mother always wore, letting the flames reflect on the metal surface, flickering and lapping at the silver sun.

"See, she fell in love. With a human whose father had already doomed his life before he was old enough to know the difference between right and wrong. His family had been banished from their nomadic tribe on accusations of oath-breaking. Without the protection of a tribe, the boy's parents were murdered mercilessly by outlaws. He was alone, striving for more. More power, more happiness, more love…

"He wasn't alone for long. My father was taken in by an old sorcerer living in the desert. The sorcerer – Haeg, they called him – taught the now young man to control the spirits. It was during this time my mother met him. She always would recount the story to me every chance she had. How they met, how they fell in love, how they promised never to leave one another."

_Eliadriena hated the desert. It was so dead and lifeless. So unnatural. She would have given anything to be in her forest at home. With all the waterfalls and trees she could imagine. _

_Her father had sent her here. "I need the juices from the cacti, Elia. They're the secret to the poultice." Eliadriena was thankful everyday she decided not to become a Healer. Too many ingredients and not enough excitement. She was better with magic than her father was anyway. _

_Her overworked horse was trotting along in the sand, the imprint of his hooves her personal tattoo on the land._

_He had noticed them, of course. No one ever rides through this part of the desert without him knowing about it. He imagined Haeg telling him to leave whoever it was alone, but he couldn't. There was no way he would allow anyone to tromp over his terrain without giving him a piece of his mind. Only this time, it wasn't a 'him.' It was a 'her.' A beautiful elf with long, blonde hair. So blonde he could barely look at it in the sun without his eyes burning. Though mounted on the horse, he knew she was tall and slender. He couldn't see her face…yet. But he was close enough to see her pointed ears._

_There! She had spotted it! The infamous Latiri cactus. Now if she could just get there…_

_A sudden movement in the sand. Maybe it was a snake, or a desert rodent. Whatever it was, it spooked the horse into bucking off Elia before she had the chance to react. A scream rang out as Elia fell through the air, her eyes clamped together as hard as possible. She imagined hitting the sand and having the wind knocked out of her. She braced herself for the unbearable pain._

_It never came. _

_Instead, when Eliadriena opened her eyes, she felt for the first time a man's arms around her back and legs. Whoever it was had caught her, saved her. It took her a minute for her eyes to train on the young man. She could see the faint outline of the sun right above him. _

_She was pretty. A heart-shaped face with almond eyes the color of the ocean on a clear day. Lips, thin and pressed firmly together. Cheeks, rosy and angled. Ears, pointed and perfect. _

_He was handsome. Dark, shoulder-length, kempt hair that had some shorter strands that had just barely flopped onto his forehead. Brown eyes and tanned skin. His features proportionately positioned on his rugged-looking face. He smiled, revealing a set of white teeth._

_"What is your name?" He asked with a deep voice._

_"Eliadriena. And yours?"_

_"Carsaib."_

_"Well, Carsaib. Thank you for saving me from a nasty fall." They just stood there for a moment, peering into each other's souls, with Elia still in Carsaib's arms. "It's alright to place me on the ground now, you know." And suddenly, she was standing upright on the sand, the heat of the granules seeping through Elia's boots._

_"Right." He smoothed his hair down, repositioning the strands from his forehead to behind his ears, which were decidedly _not _pointed. The realization made Eliadriena's heart sink. He was a human. And she felt butterflies in her stomach? If she was wise, Elia would have thanked the kind stranger and gone on to collecting cactus milk. But usually, she left the wisdom to her father. She smiled._

_"Seeing as you have enough time to save hopeless women from painful tumbles, maybe you have enough time to harvest some Latiri juice?" She pointed at the cactus, frowning as she saw it once again. Carsaib grinned boyishly. _

_"What else is there to do in this desert?" And they laughed, though it wasn't particularly funny and Carsaib didn't usually laugh much. _

_After that day, Elia made sure to keep her father's cactus milk supply high. She visited Carsaib and Haeg often. She had spent hours upon hours with Carsaib. _

_She had left the wisdom to her father once again. She had fallen in love with a human. _

"My mother was too in love to notice the subtle changes in my father. Though he loved her, he also loved power and knowledge. Haeg continued to teach him how to wield spirits and use them for others' gain, but my father couldn't help using them for his own gain as well.

"One night, while my father was out with my mother, the same outlaws that had murdered his parents also murdered Haeg. Again, my father felt alone. He was so stricken with grief he decided to use spirits to take vengeance on the murderers. But they were just too strong. They overtook him. He was no longer a man, but something less. Something darker."

"It was too late for my mother. She was in love with the shadow of a man. After she continued to love my father once the demons overtook him, her family cast her out, disgracing both her name and the name of her elven ancestors. She had nowhere left. And he always desired to possess. He took her away to the palace of the new ruler, his ally. He took her to King Galbatorix's palace, and hid her away. I was born a year later.

"So yes, by now you would've figured it out. I am Durza's daughter." She looked up, directly in Ajihad's eyes. "I am part shade. I'm a liability and a danger to the Varden. But I'm also a Dragon Rider. And I detest the very name of King Galbatorix and Durza. I will _fight_ until my dying day for all of you, no matter who my father is."

Everyone was silent. Perhaps they were too shocked at Idril's tale. Perhaps they were confused. Or perhaps, as Idril's insecure mind instantly made up, they were _repulsed_ to have a part-shade standing in front of them. Murtagh glanced worriedly at Idril's falling face. She lowered her eyes once more to the floor. The cowardice was returning.

"Idril, this isn't casual news. We must take into account your beginnings when deciding whether to trust you or not. After all, you came out of nowhere, claiming to be a new Dragon Rider. How can we be sure you aren't Galbatorix's scout, tricking us into trusting you only to betray us? And we can't ignore the fact that demons are inside of you, waiting to be released. I believe we must discuss it with my advisors and the elders whether you are to stay in Farthen Dûr." Idril slightly nodded her head. She wanted to slip into the background and pretend like this never happened. She never should've imagined this place to be her home. Homes were only for those who are brave, are selfless, are _not shades_.

"Ajihad," Murtagh respectfully began. "I understand your concerns and that you must do what you think is the best for your people. However, I was in the same position only a year ago when Eragon introduced me to the Varden. I have said it before, and I will say it again. Your family does not make you who you are destined to be. Morzan was my father and yet I fight for you. Durza was Idril's father and she is willing to fight for you, if you accept her. And if you don't accept her, I will no longer fight by your side." Murmuring began within the crowd, along with a few interspersed gasps. "I've known Idril longer than anyone here. She was my betrothed back in the palace, and I know she would never betray you." Eragon's eyes widened from the platform where Ajihad, Nasuada and himself were standing. Murtagh had yet to tell them their past encounter. Idril's eyes widened slightly as well. He was fighting for her. Even though they had only met once in the palace.

"Still, Murtagh. We must discuss this further. I believe the festivities must conclude for the night. I wish everyone a peaceful slumber. Idril, we will decide your fate tomorrow." Tears threatened to spill over on Idril's blushing cheeks. Ajihad nodded curtly and the crowd dispersed quickly, all talking and whispering to each other. Soon, even Eragon, Arya, Nasuada, and Ajihad left, leaving only Murtagh and Idril herself in the courtyard.

They just stood there for a moment, amongst all the twinkling flames and radiant lanterns, completely alone. She remained where she was as Murtagh neared her, sympathetic expression on his face. He gently grasped her wrist. "Idril…"

_Flash._

Lightening struck somewhere in the distance though the sky was still as clear as it was when Idril and Murtagh stood on the balcony, which seemed like hours ago. In that same moment, Idril ripped her arm away from Murtagh and ran into the home of the Varden. Her face was as red as her hair. Tears leaked from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks in rivers of pain and desperation. Her hair had come undone and she had stepped on her dress, ripping the skirt.

She ran to the room she had yet to sleep one night in. Her dragon was there, waiting for her with comforting golden eyes. Idril sat on the bed, her face in her hands as she cried. Her dragon clambered over to her and laid down his head on Idril's lap.

Idril glanced at her dragon through blurry eyes. She stopped crying. She knew what she had to do. "Come on, little one. We have to leave." Idril quickly threw off her dress and put on her original outfit, which had been cleaned, repaired, and returned to her before the feast. She then tied her hair up with a thin piece of hide.

Throwing her necklace into her bag, she picked up her dragon and headed for the door, whispering, "Too bad you can't fly yet, little one" to the white creature as she made her way.

Of course, Murtagh was waiting for her in the hallway. He wanted to make sure she was alright before going to talk with Ajihad. The second he saw her, he knew something was wrong. She had her old clothes on, her dragon, and her bag? Oh no. "Where are you going?" He questioned.

"I don't know. Away from here. I'm doing what I'm best at, Murtagh. I'm running away." Murtagh could hear the ice in her voice. She was clearly one step past 'upset.'

"Idril, I know you think Ajihad will throw you out, but I know him. He is compassionate. After thinking it over, he will see he can trust you. I mean, it's not like it's even possible that you're working for your father. And Galbatorix wouldn't place his trust in a teenage girl." Idril walked right past him, before catching what he said about her father.

"What do mean 'it's not possible that you're working for your father'?" Technically, it was entirely possible to her.

"Well," Murtagh looked confused. "He's dead. Eragon slew him in the battle at Farthen Dûr. You didn't know?" Idril shook her head, eyes so wide they betrayed her confusion.

"No, Murtagh. Durza's not dead. I would have felt it. I would have known. In fact, I would have died myself."

"What?"

"The demons that took over Durza were split when I was born. If he had died, killing the demons as well, so would I. No, Durza's not dead. Galbatorix must have brought him back before Eragon's blow could have done any real harm. Otherwise, I would not be standing here now." Shock. Murtagh's expression was clearly shock.

"Idril, we must go tell Ajihad. We have to warn him." Idril shrugged.

"You can. I'm leaving. I'm going back to place I swore I would never return to. The only place that was every really my home. The palace." With that, Idril turned away from Murtagh and started walking.

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><p><strong>AN: The truth is out! Dundadadun! Congrats to **but you love me anyway, Snowfox98, ICanIWill, Ashleigh Piccinino, **and anyone else who I may be leaving out (if I did, leave a review and I'll put you in the next chapter's Author's note). Thanks for reading. I'm hoping for a quicker update now that school's out. Fingers crossed!**


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